


Shut Your Mouth

by Firelightmystic



Series: 2018 Stony MCU Bingo [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 10yearsofmcu, 2018 Stony MCU Bingo, Afterglow Banter, Anal Sex, Biting, Canon Divergence - Iron Man 3, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Splash of angst, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, challenge: mcu bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 18:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firelightmystic/pseuds/Firelightmystic
Summary: When Steve Rogers wanted something, he damn well got it. Sometimes that meant doggedly pursuing his traumatized and amnesia riddled best friend across the globe, sometimes that meant feeling a bit frisky and yanking his lover into a side room and ripping his clothes off at a $5,000 a plate charity dinner.





	Shut Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for my "Arc Reactor Free Space" Bingo square. Many thanks to enki for the beta. Any mistakes are the result of my own hardheadedness.

Tony was normally fairly quiet during sex for all he loved it--and he really, really did--thanks to the risk of paparazzi or voyeuristic eavesdroppers, to say nothing of his partners who might secretly record him. A lawsuit might win him compensation, but damage was damage, and there would be no forgetting whatever was leaked.

There were already countless internet archives dedicated to his nude pics that had been taken back during his Jamaica trip when he’d been sunbathing on what was supposed to be a private beach, and dozens of invasive snaps of him skinny-dipping at his family’s villa in the Italian countryside. 

He had learned his lessons well. No recordings, keep it quiet so he could have _some_ sort of privacy in his life, and mandatory NDAs all around, backed by the most vicious pack of lawyers he could find.

The lesson he somehow missed, though, was that when Steve Rogers wanted something, he damn well got it. Sometimes that meant doggedly pursuing his traumatized and amnesia riddled best friend across the globe, sometimes that meant feeling a bit frisky and yanking his lover into a side room and ripping his clothes off at a $5,000 a plate charity dinner for a children’s research hospital...or STEM funding, he actually wasn’t sure which.

Hell, maybe it was for both. He’d lost track of most cognitive thought right around the time Steve had discovered that biting down on the spot where his neck and shoulder met while pinching his nipple with one hand and roughly jerking his cock with the other was a cheat code to make him come damn near instantly.

Tony hadn’t been expecting it at all, and had shot off like a rocket, going up in a brilliant flare of light and heat and intense sensation that had sizzled along seemingly every nerve in his body and then rushed outward in hot, powerful spurts that seemed to go on and on.

Tony had come back to himself weak-kneed and painfully aware of every inch of his body, from the tingling in his scalp to the cool air over his undoubtedly bruised neck, and his curled toes pressed against the seam of his dress socks as he struggled to keep his balance and not lose footing on the cold marble floor.

Steve had abandoned the teasing caresses in order to clamp his hand directly over Tony’s mouth and muffle the sharp cries and moans that had been pouring forth as that other wicked hand stroked him through every blissful moment until he was left over-sensitized and half-dazed.

Tony had thought that would be the end of it, that he would be offering up an apology and a blowjob for leaving Steve back at the starting line, but an erotically sinister laugh had registered over the rushing blood in his head, and then Steve had lowered himself to the floor so that he was kneeling with Tony’s back pressed flat against his torso and his still-trembling legs were braced on either side of Steve’s rather massive lap.

Steve, Tony had realized with some horror, meant to go on.

That had been...Tony wasn’t even sure how long Steve had been at it, but it had been enough time to make a ruin of him.

Steve had finished stretching him, the blunt weight of his fingers heavy inside his walls as more and more room was made to accommodate his wide girth. Tony had been unable to do anything but shudder and shake, his hands clenching desperately into the muscle of Steve’s thigh as one finger became two, then three. Steve pumped his fingers in and out, making calming shushing noises in Tony’s ear, hand still firmly clamped in place because Tony was too overwhelmed to be quiet, pushed too far too fast and caught on a wild surge of desire that he could not control, only weather.

The fourth finger was almost too much to be borne, and Tony’s pleading moans shifted to broken howls against Steve’s palm as he rocked away and then back down, trying to escape the too-intense edge of pleasure and immediately regretting it, missing the low, pulsing roll as Steve massaged him open.

Tony gave up the fight then, unwilling--unable, really--to move himself away from Steve’s fingers, and he rode the steady pumping thrusts with ease, letting his hips roll with the movements.

Steve deemed him ready then, removed his fingers so that he could coat his erection with lube, and Tony begged, maybe sobbed, his lips pressing against the hot flesh of Steve’s hand as useless syllables burst free from his mouth and died softly as inch after hot, throbbing inch was relentlessly pressed into him.

Steve fucked like he fought, rough and dirty and determinedly, his mind set on only one goal and his partner dragged along for the ride.

Tony had held on as long as he could, but Steve had set a stringent pace and it was all Tony could do to hang on to the here and now. Time slipped sharply back into focus and Tony whimpered against his impromptu gag as began to harden again, his breath coming in rough gasps as his erection bobbed up and down to the force of Steve’s movements.

Tony sagged, head falling limply back against Steve’s chest and all his weight settling down into Steve’s lap so that his next thrust went deeper and deeper until every thrust hit directly against his prostate, and Tony wailed against Steve’s hand as pleasure, brilliant and overwhelming, surged through his body in an electric flash.

The fact that he was effectively silenced only ramped him up more. He _didn’t_ want to be quiet--wasn’t sure he actually _could_ , this time. Steve was ruthless, seemingly delighting in the fact that Tony had been knocked off balance and was rapidly losing more and more of his control.

Steve removed his hand for a moment to reposition one of Tony’s legs and shift him back into a more manageable position, and Tony’s voice was loud and strained above the wet, sticky slapping together of their flesh and mingled frantic, gasping exertions.

“Steve-- _Steve_ \--STE _mmmmph!_ ” Tony’s near scream was muffled as his black and pearl gray Christian Lacroix tie--long undone--was yanked unceremoniously out from around his collar and shoved right into his mouth. Steve, in an utterly unfair turn of events, was still managing to remain mostly in control, the only hint of his pleasure the rough thrusting behind him and the thudding beat of his racing heart.

Steve laughed in his ear as Tony beat his head back against his torso, desperate for Steve to touch him, to pump him so that he could finally come because he couldn’t stand it anymore. He was caught on a plateau of sublime torment that would not ebb and would not break, and Steve had reduced him to a wreck and all his gagged screams--and they _were_ screams now, screams of ecstasy and need and desperation--did little more than goad Steve on.

Steve wound a hand into Tony’s hair and _pulled_ , sending a sharp burst of aching pleasure down Tony’s spine, pulled so that he scarce had to move his head in order to whisper in Tony’s ear.

“God Tony, I love that you’re so wild for me. I bet if I took that tie out they’d hear you all throughout the mansion, clear outside to Central Park.”

_Fuuuck._

“What a sight that would be, huh? Half of the silver spoons in New England crowding in the doorway to see what the ruckus was and discovering it’s you getting fucked senseless.”

Steve licked a hot stripe up the side of Tony’s neck, hot, wet, and _nasty,_ and Tony bucked in his grasp, humping the air in sheer desperation, searching for any kind of relief as Steve continued his obscene contemplation.

“God, they’d be so pissed. Half of them paid that ridiculous amount of money just for the chance to be in the same room with you, hoping to touch you, have a minute of your time, maybe even have you for themselves. The great Tony Stark, Iron Man himself, and here you are, stolen out from under their greedy noses and getting fucked to within an inch of your life.”

Steve’s next thrust was rougher, and holy shit, he was really plowing into him now, each thrust like a punch that sent liquid heat through his trembling muscles and frissons of ecstasy along his nerves.

“I wouldn’t stop.”

Steve’s voice was dark with promise, and Tony screamed again, entirely at Steve’s mercy with no end in sight. He closed his eyes, praying that Steve would finally relent and touch him, he was so hard, so ready and it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, it--

“Tears, Tony? Do you want me to stop?”

Steve’s voice was still heavy with erotic menace, but there was also careful attention underneath it, and Tony knew that all he had to do was nod and Steve would call a halt to everything.

If Steve stopped, Tony was sure, he’d fucking die, Jesus, he couldn’t stop, not now. Tony shook his head frantically, and Steve grinned, a slow curling of lips against the shell of his ear.

“Good. I love watching you, you know. You didn’t even notice the mirror, but I did, Tony. I put you right in front of it. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous when you’re close-- and I can tell you are Tony, look how desperate you are for me.”

Steve got those evil fingers of his back in his hair, angling his head so he could stare into the large mirror a few feet away.

His hair--once an artful tousle that had cost him quite the pretty penny--was just a mess now, sticking up in wild directions and obviously sex-wrecked.

He didn’t know where his black suit jacket even _was_ anymore, and his tie was still shoved in his mouth, a thick wad of silk that he could make out in his reflection between his reddened and slick lips. His white dress shirt had been ripped open to expose his chest and the arc reactor shone brilliantly in his chest, his tanned skin flushed dark rose around it, the hard-earned ridges of his abs well-defined as he strained in Steve’s hold.

He’d been wearing boxers, but hell if he knew where those were _either,_ probably somewhere off in the general direction of the jacket, _and his damn shoes_ , but his pants were accounted for, at least. Steve hadn’t managed to rip those entirely off, so one leg was fully exposed, but his pants were pooled and wrapped around his other leg.

His whole body was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, his erection almost imposing, jutting proudly out and leaking heavily. It bobbed and jerked as Steve continued to rock into him, slowing his pace but not stopping. Tony hadn’t realized he was leaking so heavily, but it was there, plain as day in the mirror, thick trails of precome leaking out with every thrust.

His eyes were dark and wild in the mirror, and Tony flinched away from meeting his own gaze, couldn’t stand to look himself straight on in the eye like that. He blinked, and his eyes locked with Steve’s own intense blue gaze, and he moaned lowly. Steve always looked at him like he was a coveted prize, triumphant and hungry and proud, like Tony was something hard-earned and...and...worthy. Like he was good. Tony wanted to tell Steve to knock it off, that he was tainted product and Steve could do far better than a disaster of a drunk tilting at windmills, but the man was nobody's fool and would twig on to that fact soon enough. He hated himself, but not quite enough to destroy the best damn thing to happen to him in his own pitiful life. Time would take care of things soon enough, no use jumping the gun.

He let his eyes drift closed again.

Steve tugged his head back. “One day, we’re going to sit down, you and I, and your issues, and we’re going to figure out why you can't see how goddamn wonderful you are.”

Tony shuddered in his grasp, unsure of how to answer and unwilling, really, because there was a perfect excuse not to, what with the massive cock filling him up. Steve nuzzled at the side of Tony’s neck and pressed a kiss there that earned him another high whine.

“I’m going to get back to it now, but I’m onto you Tony, so don’t think we’re not due up for a Chat later on.”

Steve snapped back into him then, a rough, low grunt punctuating his thrust, and Tony moaned loudly, still too far out into the midst of the storm rising within him to modulate his voice, and Steve’s hand slapped back over his mouth because even the tie was starting to not be enough as he continued to whisper every lewd intent and carnal wish into his ear, knowing that Tony’s over-active mind would bring each one to life with exceptional clarity and only add fuel to the fire.

Finally, _finally_ , Steve shifted his weight around so that Tony didn’t have to support himself with both hands, and he freed a hand from its death-grip on Steve’s thigh and began to pump his cock in time with Steve’s thrusts, and then Steve’s arm dropped from its hold across his abdomen in order for him to clap a hand over Tony’s and pump with him, and everything was beginning to muddle in his head again until it was just the feeling of Steve around and inside him, an inescapable haze of desire and helpless as he writhed under Steve’s control.

Steve was fucking into him so hard now, pistoning in and out and bouncing Tony on his lap with unchecked fervor and he had moved past teasing now and was urging Tony on, telling him to come, to let go, to feel it, demanding more and more of him.

It felt a little like drowning and a lot like flying, and he _was_ going to come, it was so close, _so close_ , he could feel it building now, each of Steve’s wild and forceful thrusts spiraling him higher and higher towards an ecstatic peak and then Steve snapped up into him at the same time as one of his fingers pressed into his perineum, massaging it and Tony whited-out, not registering the sensation of Steve’s teeth clamping down on his shoulder in order to muffle his own cries, or the wary Steve’s pounding rhythm stuttered then broke as he thrust into him once, twice, then stilled, his release pulsing into Tony in hot waves. Tony screamed silently into Steve’s hand as he came, voice locked, pushed past its limit, utterly lost in the throes of a shattering orgasm.

When Tony finally came back to himself, Steve was idly running a hand through his hair and frowning at the mess all over Tony’s pants, which had been too close to ground zero to avoid the inevitable splash of Tony’s own release.

Tony made a disgusted noise and wiggled his foot out, freeing himself entirely. “Oh, fuck me, that’s gross.”

“I think I did a pretty good job of it.”

“You’re so damn _smug,”_ Tony muttered as he turned and tucked himself into Steve’s side. 

“Pretty damn sure I have a right to be. That’s another room down.”

“I find it amazing,” Tony drawled, “that you’re more invested in christening every room in my childhood home than I am.”

“It’s got what, 90 rooms? I’ve got reason to be.”

“Try half of that and then some, Capsicle.” Tony sighed contentedly.

“Your pants are ruined, you know. We’ll have to stay in here until everything’s over and then we can sneak out to the car, get back to the Tower. Avoid causing a scandal.” Steve didn’t even try to hide the pleased note in his voice.

He hadn’t even wanted to come in the first place, but Pepper had been out of the country and if he couldn’t have his partner in corporate dominance, he’d damn well drag his lover down with him.

“Fuck off, Rogers.”

“I did,” Steve said cheerily and dropped into a peaceful quiet.


End file.
